


The Labyrinth of Time

by Serenade



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Gen, Meeting your much younger self, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 12:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: Life was a series of labyrinths. You had to figure out which path to take.





	The Labyrinth of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [facethestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/facethestrange/gifts).



Sarah waited in the wings of the theatre, sweat trickling down her neck. It would be even hotter under the stage lights. Around her, the other actors rehearsed their lines or fanned themselves with their scripts. This was the first dress rehearsal, and it was nervewracking. This wasn't just community theatre. This was a major production. It would go on national tour. What if she couldn't cut it?

She had to get a hold of herself. Her throat had gone dry. There were still a few minutes left, so she went backstage to refill her water bottle.

She knew she was lucky to work for such a great temp agency. They understood when she was unavailable for several weeks because of an acting gig. They liked her. She was one of their best. One of her clients had even offered her permanent full time--a manager role!--which she had turned down for this part.

Was it foolish to pass up the opportunity? The cost of rent and groceries kept going up. Was this really where she wanted to be, at age thirty two, gambling with her future like this? Was she setting a good example for Toby, who would be graduating high school soon and choosing his own career path?

She wished they were close enough to talk about this kind of stuff. Her knowledge of the Labyrinth set her apart from her family. How much did Toby remember of it? He was only a baby then. But magic worked in mysterious ways. After all, one did not emerge from a labyrinth unchanged.

_I wish I could go back and fix things._

As she stood at the sink, she heard a strange fluttering from somewhere down the corridor. The sound of wings. It brought back nightmares of endless running through an endless maze.

Sarah followed the sound. The door to the prop room stood ajar. It was full of old sets and old costumes, and behind them, billowing white curtains. Just the wind. She walked over to close the window, even as part of her thought, _Wait, are there supposed to be windows here?_

#

Sarah floated down through a dark space, surrounded by the remnants of shattered walls and broken stairs. All the clocks were chiming at once. She landed on sandy flagstones. A woman--no, a girl--sat nearby, with a white shirt and blue jeans and dark hair.

Sarah knew where this was. And she knew who this was. It should be impossible, but by now she knew better than to make assumptions about what was impossible.

"Hello," she said. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

The girl looked Sarah up and down, in obvious fascination and curiosity. "Hello. It really is you. Me. Whoever."

Sarah looked back at her sixteen year old self, who had defeated the Labyrinth, made friends, and rescued Toby. "I don't remember this." She had reappeared in her own house. She hadn't hung around in the Labyrinth. She hadn't met her older self.

Young Sarah shrugged. "The thirteenth hour is a time outside time. Things that happen here aren't always linked to normal time."

"What are we doing here?"

"Don't you remember? If you should ever need me--" Young Sarah smiled, hopeful and confident at the same time.

"--I'll call on you," Sarah finished.

#

Sarah stepped out of a stone wall, into sunshine and springtime. She turned around and touched the sunwarmed stone. It felt solid enough, but magic tingled under her palms. She hoped she could find her way back.

She stood in a green park, where weeping willows overhung a winding stream. It was the park near her childhood home. Sarah recognised the pavilion where the band played on New Year's Eve, and the picnic tables ruled by strutting pigeons. She walked through the park in wonder, and leaned over the stone bridge to look into the water. The pond was full of placid carp, cheerful ducks, and one cranky goose that she had imagined was a missing Swan Prince.

Excited barking split the air. A tiny ball of fluff dashed across the grass and rolled to a stop at her feet. A lump rose in her throat. She would have known him anywhere: Merlin as a puppy. She knelt down and scratched his ears. She had forgotten how small he was back then.

"He likes you," a childlike voice said.

Sarah looked up slowly.

A little girl followed the puppy, wheeling a pushbike. She wore a blue denim dress with a purple unicorn decal. It had been Sarah's favourite outfit when she was eight years old.

"I like him too," Sarah said to Little Sarah.

"Are you a fairy?" Little Sarah said, in suspicion and hope.

"Because of this?" Sarah gestured at her Titania costume: a flowing azure gown, sequined slippers, and silk flowers braided into her hair.

"I saw you come through the wall."

Oh no. What if she broke the timeline? Sarah hesitated. But wasn't that why she was here in the first place? To fix the future? "No. But I know a little magic."

Then she noticed something else about Little Sarah: her eyes were red and her cheeks were damp. "Are you okay?"

Little Sarah sniffled. "Why do grown ups have to fight all the time?"

Sarah remembered. So this was the afternoon when she had wanted to run away. Packing her worldly possessions into a basket, with her faithful companion by her side. She had curled up on a stone bench by the water, crying, until her parents came to find her and scold her. It had been a miserable day.

It would only be another year or two before her parents finally split up, made separate lives, and found new partners. They were happier after that. But her world had turned upside down. She had adored her mother and tolerated Jeremy. She had blamed her father and resented Irene. It took Sarah a long time to understand. How to explain it to an eight year old who was hurting?

"It's not your fault. Sometimes people do things for their own reasons. You can't make them be happy."

In a small voice, Little Sarah said, "It's not fair."

"I know it's not fair. That's when you have to be brave."

"I don't know how." Little Sarah looked disconsolate.

"Pretend to be brave. That's what everyone does. One day it will be for real." As she spoke, she understood. It sounded like an impossible paradox, but it was the answer to the riddle. To make something real, you first had to imagine it.

Little Sarah looked doubtful. But then her eyes lit up. "Like pin and needle brains, or a sawdust heart, or a bottle of courage!"

Sarah saw the book in the basket of the pushbike. The cover was familiar. "What are you reading?"

" _The Wizard of Oz_."

"Do you want to read it together?"

Little Sarah nodded.

They read until the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park. Time to go home. Sarah watched Little Sarah put Merlin in the basket of her pushbike, and pedal off with a final wave.

Sarah thought for one wild moment about following her home, confronting her parents, and telling them everything she had always wanted to say. But this wasn't her dragon to defeat. She couldn't walk into her old house and her old life. She had done what she could, and Little Sarah had to find the strength inside herself. All Sarah could give her was this day.

Her mistake had been forgetting the lessons of the Labyrinth. You can be brave. You can be strong. You can be compassionate. You know what matters most. Life was a series of labyrinths. There were twists and turns and dead ends. There were illusions and temptations. You had to figure out which path to take. And never lose sight of why you were making the journey.

#

Sarah came through the stone wall into the place of clocks that chimed thirteen. Young Sarah greeted her. "How did everything go?"

"It was good." Sarah hoped so anyway. Little Sarah had reminded her of how much she had loved the stories she grew up with, and what they had meant to her. She thought of someone else who could use certain stories in his life. "Maybe you should tell Toby about the Labyrinth."

Young Sarah looked pensive. "Is that a good idea? Even with the Goblin King gone, it's a dangerous place, full of dangerous magic."

"Yes, it is. But you know the saying. 'Fairy tales don't tell children that dragons exist--'"

"'--they tell children that dragons can be defeated,'" Young Sarah finished.

#

White curtains billowed around Sarah. She landed on her feet, back in the prop room of the theatre. She hurried out, checking her phone. No time at all had passed. An afternoon gone by in a moment.

There was a new message from Toby: a selfie in his room at home, giving her a thumbs up. But he wasn't alone. With him were Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo, smiling into the camera.

Sarah felt a surge of gratitude and affection. So Young Sarah had told her baby brother after all. She wondered what adventures they might have had together. She messaged back, _Thanks, everyone!_

 _You're an actor,_ she told herself. _You've got this._

They called her name. She stepped out on the stage.


End file.
